


The Ones Who Will Open the Door

by Oblitatron



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Altered Universe, Archetype Twist, Destiny Islands (Kingdom Hearts), Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hollow Bastion | Radiant Garden, Traverse Town (Kingdom Hearts), Twilight Town (Kingdom Hearts)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2019-11-04 10:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17897084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oblitatron/pseuds/Oblitatron
Summary: Kairi is chosen by the Keyblade. Riku is a Royalty of Heart. Sora joins Maleficent. Ienzo has grown up in Twilight Town for the past nine years with no memories of his home, just a fragment of a star. Their curiosity to see the worlds beyond their own starts their adventure and brings them together.





	1. Dive Into the Heart

_The hands grasping at him register in his mind before anything else. With his brain fogged by sleep, Ienzo doesn’t feel fear. He rolls onto his back, shoving the hands away with energy his body is trying to use to wake up. The hands grab again, pulling at his shoulder until he’s forced to sit up, forced to open his eyes and blink past the veil of slumber. The silhouettes sharpen, begin to take shape and meaning, and Ienzo recognizes the gold eyes staring into his own._

_Then he is afraid._

#

He grasps through the darkness, blindly searching for purchase even though he knows his eyes are wide open. He casts his hands about wildly, not sure where up or down are, just knowing he has to escape. He kicks his legs, swimming, and panic urges him to hold his breath, to not breathe in the darkness swallowing him.

Then the darkness lifts. He gasps, filling his lungs with something that isn’t suffocating. The surface against his back is solid, cool. He raises himself onto his elbows and looks around. He can’t see far in any direction, but there’s light above him and color below. Slowly, he rises to his feet, preparing himself for any more surprises.

#

_“M-Master?” Ienzo stills under the fierce grip on his shoulders. The strength of it stuns him. He knows his Master’s hands as ones that handle sensitive equipment, frail tomes, ones that wipe excess ice-cream off his face when Ienzo misses a spot. They’ve never been strong. They’ve never been painful. “Why—”_

_“Ienzo, listen to me,” he interrupts, the first time ever in Ienzo’s memory. “We must hurry. We don’t have much time.” He pulls Ienzo from his bed and then Ienzo is stumbling after him, wincing when the lights in the hallway hit his sleep-adjusted eyes. There’s only one hand now, clutching his wrist as Ienzo finds himself being half-dragged down the hallway. He shivers involuntarily. The tiled floors are cold against his bare feet. Ienzo spares a second, half a thought and his whole heart, to glance back at his room. Ansem had closed the door behind them._

#

He inspects the transparent shape, then he reaches for the handle. He’s not surprised his hand passes through it, but he’s concerned. Clearly he’s meant to open it, but how?

_Behind you,_ the voice says. He turns. There, in another ray of light, he sees an answer.

#

_Ienzo knows he’s not asleep anymore, but he can’t wrap his mind around what his heart already knows. He’s given up on trying to ask questions, though they burn in his mouth just as the air burns in his lungs. They had never walked this quickly before. He’s never had to take so many steps to match one of Ansem’s. Even if he had his breath, he fears another order, “Quiet,” another willful sever of the curiosity Ansem had always praised in his youngest apprentice._ But he never interrupts _, part of his brain protested. He always made sure Ienzo had a chance to speak. He said it was a gift._

_Ansem pushes Ienzo into the elevator, letting go of his wrist so he can turn his attention to the controls. Ienzo shrinks against the corner, watching Ansem pull the lever without closing the safety gate. The lift lurches, then descends. Ienzo feels his heart sinking with them._

_Lights flash by them through the lift walls._

_#_

He steps through the door and raises a hand to shield his eyes while they adjust to the light. He tries to take a step forward, but the voice assures him it’s alright.

_Make sure you know who you are, what you want_ , it advises. _Then you can move forward._

He walks over to the girl first and she surprises him with her uncharacteristically serious question. “Friendship, of course,” he says.

“Is friendship such a big deal?” she counters. He’s taken aback, and leaves her with only a sidelong glance.

“What are you so afraid of?” asks the boy.

He doesn’t want to say it aloud. “Being…being indecisive,” he admits, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels.

“Being indecisive? Is that really so frightening?”

He turns towards the other boy, and though he’s still annoyed, he feels relief that his answer didn’t promote resistance like the others. “To be strong, huh?”

_You value friendship,_ the voice muses. _You fear being indecisive. You want to be strong. Your adventure begins in the dead of night. Your road won’t be easy, but a rising sun may await your journey’s end._

#

_Ienzo’s heart thuds when they reach the basement. He fears what Ansem will see. The secrets he and the others have been hiding from him since he first caught them. Even then, when Ansem first discovered the experiments under the castle, Ienzo hadn’t been scared. He had felt indifference, annoyance. Any twinges of guilt had long since silenced._

_“Master—”_

_“Quiet, Ienzo. The others may find us.”_

_Ienzo wants them to. He looks over his shoulder again in vain. Any one of them would be strong enough to break him free from Ansem’s hold._

_Ansem guides him past the cells, past the pits of shadows. The hall is empty but Ienzo can still hear echoes of the screams. Ienzo puts his free hand over his ear and squeezes his eyes shut. He trips. Ansem’s hand is the only thing preventing his fall._

_“No, Ienzo, you must look.” Ienzo shakes his head and Ansem pauses to tug Ienzo’s hand away from his ear. “You must look one more time at what we have done. At what our folly led us to create.”_

_Ienzo doesn’t want to look. He knows. Squirming shadows cover and infect writhing bodies, devouring any last trace of light. He’s seen it before. Ansem had told them to stop. Why is he asking him to look now?_

#

He slashes and the blade passes through the monster. It collapses and dissipates until nothing remains. Several others meet the same fate. He pants, but begins running towards the light he sees on the adjacent pillar.

#

_Ienzo digs his heels in, but Ansem is resolute. He pulls him along as if he were a doll. Ienzo doesn’t know what’s at the end of the staircase. But he knows what_ could _be there._

#

He slows, approaching the shaft of light. The initial burst of panic he felt when the staircase disappeared begins to wane, soothed in the illuminated waves. He steps closer, lulled.

_Be careful,_ the voice warns. _The closer you get to the light, the greater your shadow becomes._ He turns, alarmed to see the stain of darkness against the platform. There is only a second to feel the horror of the grossly disproportionate shape before it lurches, ripping away from the platform and rising. He staggers back, unable to tear his gaze away from his shadowy self. Except the shadow is growing, morphing.

#

_Ansem pulls Ienzo all the way to the door, and when he kneels down, he has to hold Ienzo’s shoulders to keep him from fleeing. Ienzo quivers. Ansem is finally wearing a face Ienzo recognizes, not from frequency, but from gravity. It’s the same one he wore when he found Ienzo among the others in the basement. It’s the same one he wore the day Ienzo’s parents died._

#

_But don’t be afraid._ Monstrous, clawed hands unfurl. _And don’t forget._

#

_“Ienzo, listen to me.” Ienzo can hear the pain in his voice. It matches the expression etched onto his face. “They are planning to overthrow me. I do not yet know how or when, but I know it will be soon. And then I can no longer protect you.”_

#

He doesn’t have anywhere to run, so he swings his sword when a hand gets too close. Several smaller monsters arise from the ground. He grits his teeth when they scratch him. There’s no way out but to fight.

#

_“I will not let them have you.” Ienzo winces when the grip on his shoulders tighten. “I do not know if this will work. I only know that there is no other option. I have failed you, Ienzo. I am so sorry.”_

_The voices of the others echo in his head. The warnings about their Master going mad. Ienzo tries to fight when Ansem retracts a hand to dig through his pocket. Even with both of his hands, he can’t dislodge Ansem’s hold._

#

The sword disappears the same instant the creature strikes the ground. Darkness erupts from the fist, a mere foot away from him, and he feels the void beginning to suck him in.

_But don’t be afraid._

#

_“I don’t understand! Why—”_

_“You must be brave, Ienzo.” Ansem puts something in his hands and pulls him close. By the time Ienzo recognizes it as a hug, Ansem is rising to his knees. “Let this Star Shard guide you, along with whatever is left of your heart.”_

#

_You hold the mightiest weapon of all._ He kicks. He reaches, but the pool is only growing. The darkness is creeping around the edge of his vision.

#

_Ienzo tries to run, begins shouting for the others for help. Ansem holds him with one hand, while the other grasps the handle of the door. In his head, Ienzo screams his protests, tries to warn Ansem of what lay beyond the door. Like the rest of captives in the basement, he is not heard._

#

_So don’t forget…_

#

_Ansem pulls. Light pours through in an instant, blinding Ienzo. He can feel the hands on his shoulder move to his back, he can feel Ansem pushing him forward. His feet collide and he stumbles, but he never hits the floor._

#

Sora turns, reaching up as the last bit of light recedes.

  _You are the one who will open the door._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it this far! The archetype swap is an idea I've had in my head for a while. The inclusion of Ienzo is new as of KH3 but I am excited to see where it goes. This particular chapter is not representative of my usual style, but it was fun to write and experiment with (admittedly the formatting and spacing was more intuitive in scrivener and word). I hope you've enjoyed and will continue to enjoy when I, eventually and inevitably, post more chapters.


	2. Destiny Islands/Twilight Town I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting a new journey may not be so hard.

The rhythmic sighs of the ocean’s waves went momentarily unheard in the presence of a yawn. The day, like most others, was hot and the midday sun forced the rising heat back to the land. It would have been stupefying if not for rests in the shade of palm leaves, jumps in the ocean and dips under the waterfall, and the breeze off the sea that tousled hair and carried a re-invigorating energy on its fronts.

At least, Kairi thought so, but the sight of Sora sprawled in the sand made her reconsider. For a few seconds she watched, chewing the inside of her cheek as she debated her course of action. It’d been almost an hour since he left to get materials and she wanted justice.

She placed the log she had been carrying into the ground and quietly tip-toed over, as much as the sand would allow her to. Sora yawned again and sat up. He was upwind, and kept his gaze towards the horizon. _Perfect._ Kairi tried not to grin, as if the sudden excitement from her one-sided game would alert Sora to her presence. She lost that battle as she leaned over Sora’s head, waiting for the moment he looked up.

She didn’t even have to jostle him or yell, “Boo!” as she often tried with Riku. The sudden appearance of her face in his sight was enough cause for him to yelp and bolt. She laughed as he scrambled to his knees, groaning, “Gimme a break, Kairi.”

His moan was forced at the end, a valiant attempt to try and smother a laugh of his own. “Why? Seems to me like you’ve already given yourself a good, long one.”

“I…I guess it was long.” The apprehensive expression faded before it even settled, and Sora looked at her urgently. “But it was crazy! This huge, black monster swallowed me up! And there were all these other, smaller monsters, and a voice that kept—Ow!” He rubbed the spot where Kairi flicked him. “What was that for?”

“To make sure you’re actually awake in there. Dreams don’t usually make sense, but this is excessive, even for you.”

“But it wasn’t a dream!” Sora sat back on his heels and looked at his arms. “Or, I guess, it didn’t feel like one. But I don’t have any scratches, or that sword, so—”

“You had a _sword_?”

“It was a real one,” he told her, faking indignation at her fake disbelief. Kairi sat down next to him and he unfolded himself as he talked, turning back to face the ocean with her. “I used it to beat up a lot of those monsters.”

“Then how come you got eaten?”

“…it disappeared just as the big one attacked me.”

Kairi looked at Sora, who was still looking at his hands. She wasn’t sure if he was aware of the small frown on his face, and the mere fact that he wasn’t enthusiastically re-enacting the whole sequence told her he was bothered by something. “What’s wrong?”

“The monster…it came out of my shadow.”

“Uh-huh. Well, _now_ I know there’s nothing to worry about. Any monster that comes out of you is going to be the size of a milk carton.”

“Oh, thanks!” The smile that came to his face was easy, natural, and Kairi encouraged it with a shove to his shoulder. He shoved her back, more of a bump that a proper push, but whatever invisible cloud that had been hanging over him was dissolving. “Hey, Kairi?” He waited for the questioning noise in her throat. “Do you remember your homeworld at all?”

“I’ve told you before. I don’t remember.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.”

Sora watched Kairi close her eyes and turn her face up, basking in the sun. He thought back to the dream that was already beginning to fade from his memory, about the ornate doors and colorful pillars. He’d never seen anything like it, but he wondered if Kairi had. “You ever want to go back?”

“Well…I’m happy here.” Sora kept his eyes on her, positive he heard an unspoken “but” in her tone. “Though, if we’re going to be visiting other worlds anyways, maybe it’d be nice to see it.”

“I’d like to see it, too, along with any worlds out there. Let’s see them all!”

Kairi opened her eyes and grinned at him. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get back to—”

“Hey, you two!” Kairi and Sora turned, and Kairi waved. Riku balanced Kairi’s plank on his hip, gesturing to it with his other. “So, I guess I’m the only one working on the raft now, huh?”

“Excuse me?” Kairi got up and put her hands on her hips, scowling up at him. “ _I’m_ the one who found the trees for you to cut down while you two were off sparring with Tidus.”

“And now you’re soaking up the rays while I’m hacking away. And don’t even get me started on you,” he added, pointing to Sora.

“Hey!”

Kairi laughed as Riku tossed his burden to the side and sat down next to them. “Okay, then we’ll finish it together. I’ll race you to the stash!”

“Huh?”

“Are you kidding? I just sat down.”

“Ready? Go!”

Riku and Sora barely had time to exchange a glance before they were up and running, sprinting with single-minded determination towards their pile of rope, planks, and nails. Kairi laughed, admiring their pace while knowing it wouldn’t last once they reached their destination. Their haste wasn’t an effort to propel them towards the stash specifically; Kairi knew she could have picked any point on the island and they’d dedicate the same amount of effort. But Riku had a reputation to uphold and Sora’s goal was to break it. Sora kept his eye on the prize, the stash that lay beyond his adversary. Kairi caught Riku looking over his shoulder, unable to feel as confident as he looked until he knew where Sora’s feet were.

She laughed, jogging at her own pace since she knew, like Sora, she wouldn’t catch up. But like Riku, she enjoyed seeing them both try their best, especially when Sora was three steps away from passing Riku when the latter slapped his hand on the pile of planks and declared victory.

It wasn’t far away, but Kairi took her time. Once they set sail, they didn’t plan on returning for a while. She wanted to enjoy the pricks of sunlight on her arms and the sand beneath her feet while she could.

* * *

Waves rolled across the orange sand, foam bubbling itself to nothingness when the water retreated. In the prolonged dawns and dusks that Twilight Town knew as a universal phenomenon, often the ocean reflected a rustier coloration, only appearing blue around midday. Those who awoke early enough sometimes saw a violet hue on the surface at the start of the day. Towards nightfall, especially at the height of sunset and peaks of spring and summer, the ocean turned into a glowing, green mass of gently churning tides.

Ienzo knew the coloration was merely a reflection of the environment around it and that the ocean itself wasn’t changing colors, as many of his classmates had believed until recently. It hadn’t been that long ago, either, that he stopped pointing it out. Partly, he recognized annoyance from both parties; he at his classmates unwillingness to reshape their worldviews around reality, and they at him for demanding they let go of some of the mystery and wonder of the world they lived in. _It’s beautiful_ , they insisted. _It doesn’t have to be a formula or understood._

He wondered if part of the beauty was in the knowing. The sand that currently crunched beneath his shoes was an amalgam of lifeforms past and minerals eroded. He couldn’t count them all by hand, but when he paused to unearth a sand dollar, cracked but whole, the enormity of the world weighed down on him. If there was enough fragmented remains from shells, bones, minerals, and more to constitute not only the endless stretch of beach he walked on, but also to cover the floor of the ocean, stretching on to the horizon and beyond, then what else lay beyond their understanding? Ienzo looked skywards towards the stars he couldn’t see yet. _There are more grains of sand in a single handful than stars I can see with my own eyes_ , he recalled, the voice in his memory not quite his own, but not one he knew from town, either. _But there are more stars in the universe than grains of sand on any one world._

Ienzo lay the sand dollar in the sand and shook his head. The sentiment, though poetic, was currently untestable. He stuck his hands in his pockets and continued his stroll, eyes passing over the tide lines with the same amount of ease and focus the waves did. The trolley station was out of sight now, and he had seen his last beach-goer nearly twenty minutes ago. He was thankful for family dinners and school night homework and curfews. It made his own projects easier.

A sharp glint in the waves caught his eye, and Ienzo paused, waiting for the object to finish its journey. It bobbed up and down, coiled in the water’s currents, and Ienzo had to adjust his positioning several times to make sure he didn’t lose sight of it. Once he saw it bumping against the sand, he jogged forward and plucked it out of the water as quickly as he could. As usual, he wasn’t able to escape the successive wave. Sighing, he shook each of his feet individually, trying in vain to expel the seawater from his shoes and lower pant legs as much as he could before they became coated in sand. As usual, his attempt was in vain.

He gave up fairly quickly, instead turning his attention to the object. It shimmered, not reflecting light off its surface but emitting a soft, bleeding glow from its core. Ienzo turned it over in his hands, quickly noting where parts of it seemed broken. Like glass, damaged surfaces appeared as a spiderweb of fractures. Unlike glass, there were no cutting edges. Just a gentle mist where the star’s light faded back into the atmosphere.

Taking a spare rag out of his backpack, Ienzo wrapped the star fragment and then lowered it into the pocket, taking care not to jostle it as he walked. Even after three years of collection, he was unsure if his precautionary methods actually preserved the integrity of the shards he found. They were too valuable to risk ruining in experimentation.

He wasn’t sure how many more he needed, but he supposed he had formed a habit by this point. Evenings where he couldn’t walk down the beach, searching for glints of light in a sea of reflections, quickly transformed into evenings of restlessness, sketches and quick notes across whatever notebook was within arm’s reach, and too much time spent staring out his window and into the night sky.

The stars, he had mused during his earlier ventures, must have traveled a great distance to have made it to Twilight Town’s shores. In spite of his avid, if amature, stargazing and borrowing star charts from the library, he never noticed a change or dwindling in their numbers from the sky. Though most pieces were larger than the bits of shells and seaglass that littered the beach, Ienzo could only imagine what it would take to shatter a star. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, even in the relatively warm spring air. He was very grateful they came from far away.

Ienzo continued to walk, often stopping to scrutinize any particularly particular oddities in the ocean and occasionally scooping up star fragments from the waves. He even found two pieces lodged under a piece of driftwood by the sand scrubs and tried to remember when the last time the tide ran that high had been. One was noticeably dimmer than the other, and when Ienzo applied gentle pressure between his fingers, he succeeded in breaking it entirely. He watched in horrified awe as the last trace of light turned into a wisp and dissipated, while the remaining shell broke into smaller and smaller pieces until every molecule collapsed into itself, unable to bear the pressure of the world around it.

With shaking hands, Ienzo gingerly placed the second piece into his backpack and forced himself onward. The waves continued to roll and the sun continued to set, but Ienzo couldn’t help but be haunted by the sense that he had unknowingly aided the end of a world.

* * *

Kairi tugged at the rope, knowing it was a wasted effort without Riku and Sora pulling with her to ensure the knots’ durability. The sweat on her hands made gripping the rope difficult, but after several vicious pulls, the raft didn’t budge and the knots held firm, keeping each of the planks in place.

She sat down in the sand and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, wincing when it came back dripping. She needed another dip in the ocean. But that involved getting up and moving, and Kairi wasn’t quite ready to face the blood rushing from her head or the sweat running down her back and from her armpits, assisted by gravity and the ever-present sun. So she continued sitting in the shade and looked towards the ocean instead. Maybe if she imagined hard enough, she would teleport the hundred yards and land in the water.

The thought that she would soon be surrounded by nothing _but_ ocean also kept her glued to the ground. Though beyond used to the bi-daily rows to and from this island to their home one, Kairi couldn’t recall never having land in sight. Maps of the island territories only went out so far; none of the adults, seemingly for generations, had ever had any interest in sailing beyond their immediate archipelago. Riku had tried explaining some experiments he did when he was younger; calculating the currents and tides and throwing letters in a bottle into the ocean so he could find when and where they drifted up to shore. This, he had told her, had made it clear the world wasn’t that big. Kairi wasn’t sure if she didn’t get it because it was a complicated experiment, Riku explained it poorly, or the entire thing didn’t actually make sense, but he seemed confident without arrogance so she believed him.

That had been under a year ago, but it struck her that it may have been one of the last times he sat down and took the time to explain something to her. Or tried to, anyways. He had drawn in the sand, tried demonstrating with a piece of driftwood so rotted it fell apart during the initial throw. She didn’t know when, but there had been a shift, and nowadays he would only grin when she asked a question and say, “Trust me.”

_I do trust you,_ she wanted to say. _But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to learn anymore._

She shook her head and slapped her cheeks, telling herself a dip in the ocean was necessary if only to get those thoughts out of her head. Glancing out towards the beach, she saw she wasn’t the only one in need of a break. Tidus, already having dealt with his fair share of beatings from Riku, refereed a match between Wakka and Sora. Sora, who _should_ have been searching for spare sails like Kairi told him to an hour ago, took a mighty swing at the blitzball rocketing towards his face and entirely missed.

Kairi snickered and Tidus howled with laughter until he was propping himself up by his staff. Sora managed to dodge at the last second, and Wakka’s now-irrelevant panic gave him the opening he needed. Even from a distance, it was easy to predict who would win. Though Wakka had the advantage of distance and precision, years of practice and stubborn determination meant that Sora was putting up a better fight than he used to, despite common slip ups. The times he had the patience to wait to get in close, Sora frequently emerged as the victor.

She glanced at the raft and, figuring it wouldn’t fall apart if she left it alone for a few moments, made her way over to watch. Tidus waved to her, then lunged to the side when Sora’s swing hit its mark but sent the ball flying off to the side. “Watch it!” Tidus barked. Sora didn’t respond, using the chance to close in on Wakka. “Do you always strike out that bad?” Tidus continued to call. Obviously the notion of a neutral referee didn’t exist in his world. “It’s no wonder you can’t—”

“Hey, stop picking on him!” Kairi put her fists on her hip and scowled. “It’s not a fair fight if you’re heckling him.”

“C’mon, Kairi, you don’t think he can handle a little challenge?”

“That’s not the—”

“Hey, Sora! Your girlfriend here doesn’t think you can—”

There was only a second of eye contact before Sora spiked the ball Kairi’s way. Kairi grabbed Tidus’s makeshift weapon and stepped back, putting some distance between the two of them so she could wind up, aim, and give Tidus a smug grin before swinging with all her strength. Wakka was using a soft ball and they all knew it, but Tidus still caved under instinctual panic and dropped, floundering in the shallow waters while the blitzball landed with a triumphant splash over by the docks.

“Nice one!” Kairi returned Sora’s smile and high-five, tossing Tidus his stick as he struggled to his feet.

“All right, all right, keep it cool, ya?” Wakka slapped Tidus on the shoulder once he was close enough, almost toppling the younger boy right back down. “Next time we’ll get Selphie to ref,” he told Sora. “But for now, I think it’s fair to consider it a tie.”

“Or we could count it as my win,” Kairi offered.

“Sorry, no tag-outs allowed. But if you’re game, I think I see my blitzball floating our way.”

Wakka already took a few steps, both to retrieve his possession but also to follow up on his challenge. Sora mouthed, “Go for it.” Tidus remained silent but Kairi knew their little stunt would blow over soon enough. Only Selphie seemed to have the right idea, sitting on a non-sandy surface and close enough to the water to cool off and dry off in equally quick measures. Kairi took a quick glance over her shoulder and saw Riku, perched on his usual spot on the paopu tree, turning his head away from them and back towards the horizon.

He dropped off his share of the materials hours ago. But he still could’ve helped assemble it.

Kairi held her hand out and Sora passed her his wooden sword. “You’re on.”

* * *

“You’re off your rocker.” Ienzo stared at Hayner. Hayner stared back. Seifer looked at the two of them, arms crossed over his chest and looking unimpressed.

He wasn’t the only one. Indifference was one of the quickest and most reliable ways to trigger Hayner’s temper, typically an endless source of both weariness and amusement for Ienzo. But negotiations with Seifer required diligence and precision at the best of times, and though Ienzo didn’t think this was necessarily a bad time, he silently and fruitlessly wished Hayner would have just stayed in the garage.

So he kept his expression passive and returned his gaze to Seifer’s calmly and deliberately, allowing Hayner’s outburst to be a single hiccup in the discussion. “As I said; it’s entirely up to you.”

Seifer scrutinized him openly. Ienzo withstood it with boredom. “Why not something else?” Seifer finally asked. “Why not bribe me, or offer to do my homework for a week?”

“You’re the head of student government and the president of the town’s self-proclaimed Disciplinary Comittee,” Ienzo reminded him. “You can’t afford a bribe.” He watched Seifer tap his fingers against his forearm and asked, “Why is accepting my support such an unpleasant notion for you?”

“’Cause maybe I’m sick of your big head. Why do you think your support is worth it?”

“Look who’s talking, Mr.—”

“Hayner, please.” Ienzo barely spared Hayner a glance. “I’ll admit I don’t have your social standing among our peers, Seifer, but do remember I’m at the top of our class and have garnered the respect and trust of most of our faculty.” Hayner, unseen by both, rolled his eyes. “Though my opinion may mean little to our peers, I’m certain my support will sway the thoughts of our teachers, who, may I remind you, are worth thirty percent more of the voting pool than—”

“Okay, shut up already. I get it.” Seifer rolled his shoulders and tried to adopt a more neutral, but equally as powerful, stance. “You really don’t care what I come up with, huh?”

“I also don’t think you can afford any political decision too radical.”

“He proposed to make Struggle tournaments a legit form of student conflict resolution,” Hayner reminded him.

“You wouldn’t try that again so soon, would you Seifer?” Ienzo asked sweetly. He almost laughed when Seifer glared.

In the end, Seifer relented and Ienzo pocketed the star fragment, fingers tapping against the cool, pliant surface as he bade Seifer farewell with all the grace of a proper host and only a trace of the smugness of two teens striking a bargain in an alley underneath the tram bridge.

He continued to run his fingers over the shard as he and Hayner walked back, until Hayner finally asked, “You couldn’t just wait another few nights to see if one showed up on the beach?”

“I could have, but with the ship so close to completion, I thought we could expiate the process.”

“Ugh, Ienzo. Use. Normal. Words.”

Ienzo sidestepped a trash barrel and grimaced at the smell. “This is one of the final pieces. It’s more efficient to acquire it now than wait by the beach for hours each night.” Hayner held his hand out. “What?”

“Lemme see it.”

“I’m sorry, who’s the crazy one? I’ve already told you how rare this piece is, how valuable it is to ensuring that our ship—”

“I’m not gonna drop it.” They stopped walking and as they stared each other down, Ienzo got the nagging sensation that he did, somehow, owe Hayner for accompanying him on this mission despite Ienzo’s insistence that he’d really rather Hayner didn’t. And unlike Seifer, who stared Ienzo down to intimidate and impersonate, Hayner stared at Ienzo because he already had full confidence with what Ienzo’s response would be.

Maybe Hayner was prophetic. Maybe his force of will was so great it overwrote pre-determined fate. Because Ienzo only felt mild disgust at himself for giving in and handing over the star with a firm reminder _not to drop it_.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hayner said, took a few steps forward, tossed it in the air, and let it fall straight past his hands. He laughed aloud when Ienzo lunged and swung his hand down and around, catching the shard with practiced ease while Ienzo righted himself with as much dignity as he could.

“Will you ever get tired of that?” Ienzo asked. He purposefully looked to the side, eyeing the wares in Wedge’s shop so Hayner couldn’t see the pink tinging his cheeks.

“Not a chance.”

* * *

Once Kairi had given up on trying to keep her friends on track, it became harder to keep herself on the straightest path towards their goal. When they’d all manage to wrangle each other to sit down and work, they’d have a productive hour or so before someone went to grab more water, or Riku suggested another improvement that involved searching the island for supplies, both of which meant getting distracted by their friends, or resting in the shade between tasks, or cooling off in the ocean, or noticing their sword had gotten splintered and they should really sand it down to prevent injury. Splinters, after all, were much more hazardous than bruised shins.

Sora and Kairi, experts on not only bruised shins but also bruised forearms, scraped knees and elbows, sunburns, and sweating, decided long ago the best way to make sure their swords were in tip-top shape was to whack them against each other immediately after a good sanding and re-tightening of the guards.

Kairi’s arms ached from the heavy lifting and her round with Wakka, but she gripped the uncomfortable, square hilt of her sword and charged at Sora. He matched her blows with equal strength, striking back with enough intention for the hit to land but allowing her just enough time to react if she was paying attention. As the years had gone on, that window of opportunity had narrowed until one day Sora hesitated a moment too long and Kairi’s counter attack knocked the breath out of him and left a lingering, multi-colored bruise across his side. Her apologies drowned in his proud thumbs up, and though Kairi had still felt twinges of embarrassment whenever Riku would tease them both about Sora’s blunder, she was thankful that she had to stop encouraging Sora to hold back after that incident.

She parried Sora’s swing and _felt_ the pain singe in her arms. He must have noticed too, because he began striking in a flurry of short, quick strikes to keep her off-balance. It worked, and Kairi shuffled back, towards the ocean. Sand flew from their footsteps and when she slipped to her knees on a pile of seaweed, Sora took his chance to secure his victory.

Kairi lunged forward when he swung his arm over his head, dropping her sword in favor of a full-body tackle. His yelp of surprise fueled the adrenaline pumping through her. Sore arms forgotten, Kairi took another step forward and tried to push him away. Sora shoved back and her foot landed in an incoming wave.  Swords forgotten, they continued to shove and laugh, new goal to dunk each other in the ocean. Spray replaced sweat in a matter of moments, and when Sora shoved with a bit too much force, Kairi opted to turn to the side instead of meet him head on.

“Whoa!” Unprepared, Sora staggered a few steps past her before momentum and another wave caught up with him, sweeping his feet out from under him. He twisted, reaching out, and Kairi instinctively reached back. Her heart lurched into her throat, and when his grasping hand caught hers, a sense of relief crashed over her.

Then so did a wave, and they both went under.

As abruptly as she had been pulled forward, the current slammed her backwards and suddenly she was sitting, then on her back, then sitting again as she fought to scramble to her feet. She broke through the surface, gasping, and heard Sora spluttering somewhere behind her. When she turned, he was trudging his way towards shore, so she waved him over.

“That…was…so mean,” he gasped, hands on his knees, once the water only reached his ankles.

“Oh, sure. _I’m_ the mean one, pulling your savior into the ocean with you.”

“Don’t you mean fellow loser?” he asked, glancing up through his bangs to flash a quick grin. She chuckled, then laughed, and Sora joined her as they mocked the expression on both their faces and the seaweed plastered to Kairi’s shoe.

“Hey, you guys okay?” Kairi waved Riku over and Sora straightened. Riku looked them both over, assessing the damage. Determining it was minimal, he said, “Please tell me you’ll swim better than that once we’re sailing.”

Sora rolled his eyes. “You try having Kairi tackle you into the ocean.”

“You did what?” Kairi shrugged helplessly and Riku laughed, open and carefree. “C’mon Sora, she’s like, a hundred pounds.”

“Excuse you!” Kairi hopped on one foot, kicking the seaweed towards Riku’s face, chasing him for a few precarious seconds while she balanced and he evaded.

“Cut it out, Kairi!” he complained at the same time Sora whooped and cheered her on.

“Hah!” she shouted, succeeding in launching the mass off her foot, though Riku dodged it easily.

“Are you two teaming up on me?” He eyed them both warily, but their impish grins were infectious and he couldn’t help but laugh in the end when they both grabbed an arm, using all two-hundred odd pounds to drag him into the ocean with him, rather than meet him on higher ground.

Later, they all lay in the sand, caught up in their breath but unwilling to part with the warmth of the sand or their companionable silence that let them hear the echoes of their laughter and the waves that continued to sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to balance suspension and eeriness with teenagers being light-hearted goofballs is tough. Also, who says time passes at the same speed in every world?  
> On another note, I love a lot of scenes from the games. The first sunset with them talking on the paopu tree, when Sora sees Ansem in the Secret place; so good. But when they are already good and don’t need to be changed for plot or character reasons? I’ll probably pass on writing them (though, if it’s any consolation, characters will likely reflect on them later and still reference them).  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Destiny Islands/Twilight Town II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or maybe it's already begun.

Smuggling a one-person spaceship in and out of Pence’s parents’ garage _should_ have been an improbable task full of stealth and credible falsehoods. No one should have accepted the four teenagers, more conspicuous in their attempts to act casual than their large, wheeled, misshapen mass they toted around under a tarp, without substantial questioning. But when Olette was in the lead or poked her head around the corner, most adults waved them on without a second glance. Between their reputations (her’s as The Responsible One, Hayner as The Troublemaker, Ienzo split nearly 50/50 down the middle, and Pence as Twilight’s Town’s Future Mad Scientist and/or Paranormal Expert) and a little reconnaissance, moving the ship from the garage to an abandoned car lot by the outskirts of town and back required so little mental effort that it had become routine.

They almost felt insulted.

It was their fifth time wheeling it out to the lot. The fifth time Ienzo, willing his hands to remain steady, climbed into the cockpit (the first two times with a boost from Hayner) and put the energy crystal into the divot by the wheel and started the ship up. The fifth time Pence, Olette, and Hayner shielded their eyes from the gusts of wind and huddled around the hand-held radio, one of three that Hayner had gotten for his birthday four years ago. Originally, they were used to scout out long-vacated storefronts that were rumored to be haunted, or to keep in touch at lunch when one of them was in detention, or to pester each other for answers to homework sets, plans for the weekend, or catch up on gossip when they were supposed to be asleep past their curfews.

Then, upon realizing how serious Ienzo was about his project, Hayner donated a radio to his cause. Its new home inside the ship kept it safe from the elements and accidents, unlike the one broken in a scuffle between Hayner and Seifer. After treating a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, they all gave it a proper and somber send off to the town dump.

Five times the static crackled before Ienzo’s voice came over loud and clear. Pence cupped his hand to his mouth in order for his response to be heard. “Everything looks good, Ienzo! No black smoke coming out the engine this time.”

“Copy. Product One preparing for take-off.”

They stood back as the ship’s engine revved, the entire structure swaying back and forth before the wheels caught traction and gears fell into place. Olette and Pence cheered as Ienzo, eyes on the horizon when not eyeing the gauges, steered the ship forward and up, until the wheels whispered their goodbyes to the ground and he was sailing, airborne.

He never went too high; Ienzo was nothing if not cautious. As they cheered and high-fived and Olette admonished Hayner for another joke about a crash landing, they also kept watch for anything amiss with the exterior of the ship. Loose parts, crooked wings. Pence in particular had an eye for inefficiencies in design. When Ienzo would touch down, they’d debrief and look over blueprints again.

Until then, Ienzo soared. After four flights, the machine was beginning to feel less foreign. He’d begun seeing the control panel in his dreams and feeling the weightless feeling of take off and landing by sheer imagination. He banked to the right, glancing down to see Olette pushing Hayner, undoubtedly scolding him for something. Pence waved, diligent as always, but Ienzo didn’t dare remove a hand from the steering prongs. Instead, he tightened the curve, experiencing the familiar but still unsettling twist in his gut alerting him to acceleration and centrifugal force. Keeping the torque, he pointed the nose of the ship up, twisting towards the sky. The shaking in his hands returned with a vengeance, and Ienzo didn’t have any concentration to spare in stilling them. The clouds, a blur of white and orange and pink and shadows, rushed to meet him. When he could stand it no longer, Ienzo broke out of the spiral into a glide, taking deep, shaky breaths and reminding himself to keep his eyes open. The sights of Twilight Town, looking smaller that it had ever felt to him, gave him a sense of peace. He didn’t look out towards the ocean.

To prove that he could, he stayed aloft for the next twenty minutes, tracing the contours of clouds with his wingtips and experimenting with turns, accelerations, and navigation. For one brief instance he flew upside down, just to see if he could. The resulting disorientation encouraged his decision to land shortly thereafter, though he didn’t leave the cockpit until he was sure he wouldn’t throw up in front of the others.

“You did that just to make me jealous,” Hayner accused him when he did finally emerge from the cockpit. Olette offered her hand as Ienzo slid feet-first down the side of the ship. He accepted gratefully.

“Hey, if you’re planning on doing that again, the rudders need some work,” Pence said, sparing Ienzo a response. “You were shaking like a leaf up there.”

“I’m well aware.” Ienzo put a hand on the ship and knelt down, examining the underside for himself. The others followed suit.

“Why didn’t they work when he was sideways or upside down?” Olette ran her fingertips over the parts she could reach, pinching the ends. “They haven’t caused any problems so far.”

“It may be the way they interact with the engine and steering, or just simply gravity. Product One has an obvious orientation it’s supposed to be flown at. If I fly sideways or upside down, it might mess with weight distribution.”

“For the record—” Ienzo rolled his eyes, already knowing what Hayner was about to say. “Can I just point out how dumb of a name that is?”

“I’m sure you’ll find you can,” Ienzo muttered.

“Like, you could have named this _anything_. Like…the Colossus, or Titan, or the Leviathan, or Sky Splitter. And yet you picked the single most dull name in existence.”

“It could be worse,” Pence offered from the other side of the ship. “One of his original ideas was Tester Zero.” Ienzo heard Hayner’s face palm. “But hey, maybe the rudders aren’t such a big deal? It’s not like there’s any up or down when you’re in space.”

Ienzo pondered this, following Olette’s suit by running his fingertips and palms over the rudders, then the sides of the ship, gaze zeroing out to nothing until only the feel of the star shards, so carefully collected over the years, so painstakingly morphed, uncoupled, and melded back together into this ship, kept him grounded. “Do you have ideas to help stabilize it? It might not matter in space, but who knows what sorts of worlds I’ll visit.”

“Hmmm…” Ienzo waited patiently as Pence thought, wanting nothing less than his feedback in its entirety. And if that meant checking the ship over for damage, wrapping it back up under the tarp, listening to Hayner’s grumbles and dodging any adults or Seifer’s gang until they were comfortable settled back into the garage, then so be it.

Hayner slung his arms over the back of the chair, spinning in circles and pushing himself back and forth across the garage on its wheels when Pence exclaimed, “Aha!” and ran out the door. Olette, one hand cradling her chin and the other twirling a pencil, rolled her eyes but smiled. Minutes later, Pence was back in the garage with several comic books, different than the ones they had stockpiled on the bookshelf in the garage over the last year and a half. He flipped through one, then showed Ienzo. “So this ship, the Raptor, isn’t the fastest or the strongest ship in the universe, but it’s rumored that it had never been hit by enemy fire, not even once.”

Olette and Ienzo stood to take a look. Hayner wheeled over, straining his neck to catch a glimpse. “See? What do these wings remind you of?”

“Hmm. They almost look like an osprey’s.”

“That’s right! And ospreys are known—”

“—For being able to fly upside-down!” Olette finished. Pence beamed at her. “This is perfect! And look at all of the ridges on the side of the ship. I bet those help with balance.”

Ienzo asked if he could have the comic book, then took it and himself to the door of the garage to compare the ship on paper and the one sitting on the ground. The other three waited, waiting to hear his decision. Internally, Ienzo balked. He had meant what he said on the hill, but the thought of delaying the completion of his ship sent a strong ripple of hesitation through him. _It’s fine_ , he told himself. _It’s not like I’m in a hurry._ He remained unconvinced.

Still, Pence’s comic books had proved to be instrumental in the design and functions of his ship, and it was better to err on the side of caution. When he looked up at Olette, Pence, and Hayner, he saw that they already knew his answer. “You don’t have to—” he began.

“C’mon,” Hayner interrupted, heaving himself to his feet. “You need our help and you know it.”

“I like working on the ship,” Pence reminded him.

Olette smiled and hefted the toolbox already in her hands. “We’ve already gotten this far. We’ll work together and finish it.”

* * *

Kairi leaned against the mast of the raft, frowning as she plucked the twine in and out of the shells’ holes. It would be easier, she thought, if her hands would stop shaking. But, so far, this was the only project that she could give enough of her attention to distract her from _why_ her hands were shaking, if only for one thread-weave at a time.

_Get a grip_ , she told herself, narrowing her eyes as she tried to push the twine through the next hole. It bent and folded against itself. _You’re about to go on a voyage, which means no land and no hiding spots until we reach the next world. Just forget about it._

She was thankful that Riku had departed so quickly after dropping off his rations. Any irritation she felt towards him for not sticking around to help was drowned in relief. She’d see him again tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep and with the promise of a new adventure on the horizon. Where they would cast off towards new waters and leave anything they didn’t want behind.

_But I don’t want this to be an island of “left behinds_ ,” she thought, finally worming the twine through. She tugged until the shells came together, taut. _I didn’t grow up here just to leave and never look back._

She paused, tucking the charm in her pocket to massage her fingers. She swiveled her head around as she did, going through her mental checklist. Extra oars. Extra sail. Rations. Extra rope. There wasn’t much room to stash it all, but they had made it work. Riku had been the one to suggest wrapping the extra rope at the base of the mast, providing a secure spot and a makeshift seat. Sora posed the question of attaching the coconuts, by far the most numerous and space-consuming item they collected, to the sides of the raft, wondering if it would help with buoyancy along with saving space.

For the moment, they were neatly stockpiled on the raft, but could be pushed into the ocean once they set off, held together by a stretch of nets. Kairi’s fingers still had blisters from weaving those together, too.

She sighed, and tugged the charm back out of her pocket. She forced the rush of anticipation back down and told herself to let it go, already. Was she really going to let one weird moment ruin her last day on the island?

Between Riku’s frequent absences and Sora’s easily diverted attention, she hadn’t been able to collected as many thalassa shells as she had hoped. She had felt bad at first, only having enough to make one charm, then relief, then bad for feeling relieved. She had wanted to make two, but…

_The winner gets to share a paopu with Kairi._

The charm suddenly became blurry, and it took Kairi a moment to realize it was because tears had crept into her eyes. She rubbed at them, painfully aware of how exposed she was in the hot sun and by the shoreline. _C’mon_ , she chided, inhaling deeply and forcing herself to turn her face skywards. _He didn’t mean anything by it. He was just kidding around._

The only thing that had softened the unexpected blow was that Sora had looked as surprised as she felt. Neither one had brought it up after the race, and she didn’t know how to approach Riku to ask him why he had said it. She had, after all, heard his explanation to Sora. It was a joke, simple as that.

A seagull cried overhead, and Kairi glanced at it, squinting through the sunlight and under the palm shielding her eyes. She hadn’t even heard the ocean for the past…it was hard to tell. Everything had fallen into a zone of insert, pull, align, and repeat.

Kairi swung her hand down and set the charm back in her pocket. If she wasn’t going to get over it on her own, she knew the perfect activity to help. She grabbed her wooden sword and approached the nearest tree. They could use more coconuts anyways.

* * *

The afternoon was a blur of motion and single-minded focus. Shards were dismantled, the inventory re-counted, shards were reassembled, and tools tossed to each other or over the ship despite Pence reminding them of low-hanging light-bulbs. The laughter and scoldings barely registered on Ienzo’s radar as distracting. Once the blueprint was re-drawn, a task that felt painstakingly endless, all concentration honed into the job at hand and assembling the proper parts had never gone quicker.

Still, Ienzo hadn’t expected their redesign to take just under two hours. But their re-modeled and, hopefully, improved ship sat before them, a promise come to life.

Ienzo could feel the throbbing in his knees, hips, and hands. A glance at the others, who looked as confused as him, revealed that they were also feeling varying degrees of fatigue and aches from their swift but intense work. None of them knew how to account for it, until Pence suggested that time really did fly when they were having fun. Hayner groaned, giving voice to what Ienzo would not, and Olette simply wished aloud they could complete their school projects this quick. Ienzo, insistent they had missed something in their haste, could find nothing lacking from their blueprint or any minute errors.

So they wheeled it out again, and Ienzo flew from the empty lot to the rooftop of his house, and Product One had never felt better.

So, as soon as he could, he collapsed back on the rim of the clock tower, ice cream held out to the side so it wouldn’t melt on him. His hand shook. Hayner, who usually had something to say about the way Ienzo sat ( _”Just slouch and get early-life spinal problems like the rest of us!”_ ) or spoke ( _”I don’t have a dictionary in my brain, Ienzo!”_ ) or existed ( _”Why are you_ like _this?!”_ ), was apparently as mentally exhausted as Ienzo was physically. He only encouraged Ienzo to sit up and actually watch the sunset with them. Ienzo groaned and raised himself onto his elbows, not believing how much his muscles ached. It crossed his mind to ask Hayner if he ever felt this sore after a Struggle match, or running the insane amount of miles he did for their cross country team, but he figured he didn’t need to waste energy asking. He was tired enough as it was.

“So, Ienzo, what do you think you’ll do first once you reach a new world?”

Ienzo wiped a drop of melted ice cream off the stick with his thumb, intentionally not meeting their gazes. “I guess it depends on what it’s like and who is there,” he answered. “I don’t even know if they’ll speak the same language, or know about other worlds. It’s all very situational. There are a lot of variables.”

Hayner rolled his eyes. “Okay, so what do you _want_ to do once you reach a new world? Assuming everything is a-okay.”

Ienzo hadn’t thought about what he wanted, other than the obvious. His fingers twitched, trying to trace the Star Shard he had come to Twilight Town with, the only hint of the world beyond that he may have once called home. But it was in his pocket, and a few drops of ice cream slid onto his thumb and pointer finger, so he wrapped the napkin around the stick a bit more securely and said, “That depends, too. I don’t have any answers, yet. Just a lot of theories.”

“Really? You seem so sure of it all.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Ienzo felt a twinge of gratitude, increasing when Pence added, “It’s like what we learned in history class. No one has the answers right off the bat. That’s why we explore.”

“Precisely.” Pence raised his ice cream in a salute and Ienzo bit into his own. The sweet and salty taste lingered on his tongue, filling his brain with a comfort he could find nowhere else.

He listened to Pence, Olette, and Hayner talk, reclining back so he was laying and staring at the sky above. The sky he’d soon be adrift in. It was a heady feeling, and Ienzo still couldn’t believe he was almost ready. Years of patience, diligence, trial and error, frustration, and perseverance were about to pay off.

Coming up with what to say to the others, though, was proving more of a challenge than Ienzo had anticipated. It wasn’t as though they expected anything more or less than his departure; he’d made that clear from the day he decided to divulge to them his plans. Or, he recalled, the day he gave into their annoying tailings and inquiries. At the time, he’d been most worried about them telling an adult, as the last thing he needed were his star shards taken from him. As it turned out, their insistent and helpful attitudes were a larger cause for concern. It took weeks of fending them off before Pence dragged Ienzo into his bedroom to barrage him with comic books of intergalactic adventures. Only then was their help accepted.

Then their persistence became compassion, and that was when Ienzo felt the first stirrings of guilt. Ienzo thought back to his flight, when the world tilted on its axis and everything around him shuddered. It wasn’t an unprecedented feeling.

“Hayner, no!”

Time slowed as Ienzo shot upright, just in time to see Hayner’s foot leave the edge of the clock tower. His arms, windmilling in an attempt to right himself, stretched back towards the others, his mouth open in a silent cry for help. There wasn’t time to think; all three lunged towards him, hands reaching, and Ienzo felt every second trickle by until he and Olette clasped their hands on Hayner’s wrist.

“Whoa!” Pence grabbed Olette and Ienzo by their shirts and as a unit they hauled Hayner back onto the tower, not stopping until all four of them were plastered against the wall. For several long moments, Ienzo was sure he was deaf; he could feel his blood pounding through his ears and saw the lips of the others moving, their shoulders and chests heaving in pants, but all he heard was a low buzzing.

He sagged against the wall until he slid down it, limbs shaking. Burying his face in his hands helped, marginally, but soon someone was shaking his shoulder. “Ienzo! You all right?”

He actually managed a laugh. “Hayner, I know you said you were jealous, but you could have just asked for a ride in the ship if you were so keen on flying.”

Hayner punched his shoulder weakly, calling him a jerk, but by this point Ienzo hardly felt it. They all followed Olette’s idea of getting off the tower and back to the ground, and not a single one of them let go of the handrail on their descent.

At the bottom, Hayner held Ienzo back. “Look, maybe it’s just the adrenaline talking, but…you grabbed me first.”

“What?”

“When you and Olette…I felt your hand grab me just a second before hers did. And,” Hayner crossed his arms, “I don’t want to think about how much that second counted, but I know it did.”

Ienzo wanted to protest, to tell Hayner he was imagining things. But between the exhaustion from flying, renovating the ship, and coming down from the adrenaline rush, he couldn’t think of a response. Hayner, also running low on emotional fuels, uncurled his arms, gave Ienzo a gentle bump of his fist on his shoulder, and raced to catch up with the others.

Ienzo glanced up at the tower and shivered. The setting sun turned the bricks from orange to purple, inverting the hallmark vista Ienzo hadn’t realized he’d come to admire until it was stained in something foreign and foreboding.

* * *

The boats to their right bumped against the dock. Everyone else had departed for the main island; Tidus, Selphie, and Wakka to go home, and Riku to do whatever it is he did when he wasn’t staring off into the horizon. Maybe, Kairi thought as she swung her legs to and fro, he was saying goodbye. Not that he’d admit it.

She tried to leave her earlier disquiets behind, in the shade of the rocky hillside to decompose with whatever mushrooms they had failed to harvest. Sometime after lunch, while Sora was sparring with not just Tidus or Wakka, but both plus Selphie, Riku had approached her to ask if he could help with anything. She knew her answer had been short, but he grabbed the rope she was struggling with and helped anchor it to the floor of the raft. Not taking it away from her, just lending his own strength.

It almost felt normal, the ways thing had used to be, but after one too many clipped sentences and evading eye contact, he put his foot down, literally. _“Are you mad, or something?”_ he had asked, leaning into the leg on the raft as he bent to catch Kairi’s eye. _“This isn’t like you.”_

Keen enough to notice the difference, but not to understand why. Kairi chewed the inside of her cheek before finally giving into his expectant stare. As she had feared (not expected, she convinced herself), he had laughed, not quite unkindly, but it still made her feel like she was a child again. He asked if she was really that mad about it. Told her it had been a joke. When she didn’t look up from the sand, he bent to catch her eye again. _“I didn’t mean to upset you,”_ he had said. _“I’m sorry, all right?”_

That’s how she wanted things to be; all right. So she nodded and grinned through a few more minutes of him helping her securing the last few objects to the raft before getting called away to spar with the others. To their credit, the others invited Kairi too, but one display of her blistered hands convinced them all she should sit this round out.

_Maybe I should start wearing gloves, too,_ she thought, just as Sora asked, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Hm?”

“You look kinda down.”

“Oh, I’m not,” she lied, picking at the the hem of her skort. “It’s just been a long day, that’s all.”

“Well, it _is_ our last day on the island. Guess it’s bound to be weird.”

“I guess so.” She wondered if Sora realized the choice of word he used. Her day hadn’t been weird, just tiring. “It kinda makes me want one more, just to enjoy it properly.”

“Really? I thought you were ready to go.”

“I am.”

“But…?”

Kairi bit the inside of her lip again, unsure if she should mention it. He had apologized, after all. And it wouldn’t be fair to drag Sora into this. Still… “But nothing. I’m just as ready to go as you are. C’mon!” She made as if to stand, grinning at Sora’s surprise.

“What, but—hey! What about Riku?”

“What about Riku?” she retorted, keeping her weight on her hands, ready to push off at a moment’s notice. “He can catch up with us on his boat. Come on, Sora, let’s go, just the two of us.”

“You’re crazy.” Sora raised an eyebrow at her, grinning, and she stuck out her tongue. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I was kidding,” she assured him, trying not to wince when she realized who she sounded like.

“Uh-huh.” Sora waited until she was fully settled back down, and had begun swinging her feet again, before he said, “You know, you’ve changed, Kairi. Sometimes it feels like you’ve already taken off. Well, you and Riku.”

“But not you?” Sora shrugged, trying to dismiss the question with a good-natured laugh. Kairi frowned. “We’re not going anywhere without you.”

“Yeah, I know.” He leaned back on his hands, flashing her a quick, classic Sora-smile. “It’s just, when we first brought it up, I thought you might not want to go at all.”

She wondered where he thought she’d want to be, if not with him and Riku. Aloud, she said, “Well, I was a little scared. At first. I like it here. I don’t want to not be able to come back.”

“What changed?”

Kairi mulled it over, listening to the waves lap against the dock’s legs as she thought. “Riku did,” she finally answered. “I know you said he’d been talking about exploring since you two were little, but the way he’s been talking the past couple months…you two were contagious.”

“Hey!”

She laughed. “In a good way!” She shifted, and felt the charm in her pocket poke her thigh. “Plus, I know no matter where I go or what I see, I can always come back here. Right?”

“Uh, yeah, of course!”

His doubt was as transparent as his compulsion to assure her. But she didn’t need his surefire answer. Just his belief. “That’s good.” She closed her eyes against the sunset, savoring the breeze in her face and the sound of the waves. Finally, after one talk with Sora, she began to feel what she had been waiting for all day. Relief. Comfort. Normalcy. If Riku was far-searching and deep-thinking as the sky was wide, then Sora was the familiarity of the island she considered home. Not always grounded, like the sand, but tangible and exactly what he appeared to be. _Sora, don’t ever change_ , Kairi thought, watching the sunlight sparkle off the sea. The knots of nervousness and frustration unraveled, not entirely, but enough so that she could say her next words with more confidence than she had felt all day. “I just can’t wait, once we set sail. It’ll be great.” Sora nodded, watching her before turning his gaze out to the horizon that, by tomorrow, would no longer be unfamiliar territory.

Just before they boarded their boats, Kairi grabbed Sora’s hand.  “Here, I made this for you today,” she said, placing the charm in it. “In the old days, sailors always wore thalassa shells. They were supposed to ensure a safe voyage.”

“Oh, uh, thanks!” Sora scratched the back of his head, as visibly confused as he was touched. “But…we’re all going together. Does it matter which one of us keeps it?”

“I want you to have it. Aaaand, since you’re the one who’s fallen out of the most trees and been hit in the head with the most coconuts, you probably need all the luck you can get.”

“Oh, thanks!” If they had been in their boats he would have splashed her, and they both knew it, but instead he nodded resolutely and tucked the charm into his pocket. “You’re probably right, though. It couldn’t hurt.”

“Well, just watch yourself when you sit down. It can be a bit pointy.”

Sora did take care as he lowered himself into his boat, and the two pushed off from the island, sore shoulders and hands forgotten, as they rowed for the last time towards their home island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what better theme to have for a KH fic than for it to take FOREVER to update. A big thanks to everyone who's reading this.


	4. Night of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meaningless effort.

The oars creaked against their tholes, groaning as they and Kairi fought the sea in her efforts to reach the island. The wind nearly drowned out the sound, its wails desperate and angry and demanding to be heard. _You_ _’re not the only one_ , Kairi mentally growled, gritting her teeth as the current yanked at one of her oars. _So deal with it._ She was duly ignored, at least by the storm above. Waves crashed against the sides of the boat, jostling her up and down instead of pushing her towards the shore, as they _should_ have been at this time of night and month.

Just like how she _should_ have two other occupants in her boat, fighting with her. _But no,_ she thought. _I guess they couldn_ _’t be bothered._ The thought stung as much as the cold brine. Within seconds of noticing the storm, she was slipping out her bedroom window and racing towards her friends’ homes so they could secure the raft, left high but exposed on the beach, somewhere safer. It never crossed her mind they would take off without her.

Kairi glanced up to the sky. It was foreboding and dark, even when she saw red clouds broiling in the black or when lightning struck at nothing. The absence of rain, what she had thought to herself a small miracle when she first pushed her boat out the shoals, was now as much of a cause for concern as the tides and currents. If whatever hung over their island in a halo of darkness didn’t bear precipitation in its depths, she didn’t want to know what it did.

Another surge of water rocked the boat. She returned her attention to the task at hand, re-gripping the handles and throwing her whole body into her strokes. The ocean resisted, mirroring the turbulence above, but years of practice and conditioning had prepared her arms and fortitude for the task. She rowed. And despite what the sky broadcasted, the wind quieted and the sea settled once she reached the perimeter of the island, allowing Kairi a few minutes of relative relief while she headed to the dock and cast her line around the posts. She drew the loop tight and eyed the other boats, uneasiness spiking. She had assumed Riku picked Sora up and they came in one boat. It would have been faster, and safer, than of rowing solo. But two boats bumped against the pier, clear evidence they arrived separately.

The dock was slippery and it took a few tries to gain enough momentum to haul herself onto it. Squinting, Kairi peered across the dim landscape, her sense of disquiet mounting when she realized the raft was gone. _There_ _’s no way they could move it that fast_ , she thought. The wind picked up, tugging her towards the shore. She shielded her face against the spray of sand and water with her forearm, and when she lowered it, she realized just in time she wasn’t alone.

At first, she told herself it was a trick of the light, or lack thereof. That the discoloration of the sky was playing with the shadows on the ground. Then the shadows squirmed, lifted, and pairs of yellow eyes instantly locked on her own. Then they were racing towards her.

She screamed and backed away, arms raised as if flesh posed any threat to a shadow. Her foot slipped, shoes slicker than seaweed, and her knee banged against the wood. She dove, landing back in her boat with no amount of grace or planning, other than to find _something_ to defend herself with.

The oars were lodged into their locks too tightly for the time she had. Kairi kicked back at the claws scraping at her ankles, wincing, as she fumbled underneath the seat, praying her sword hadn’t been washed away. She grabbed it and swung, not realizing she was holding it by the blunt blade, pouring every ounce of strength she had and aiming for the creature’s head.

It passed through and broke in half when her blow struck the pier instead.

The shadow lunged at her. Kairi dove again, spluttering as she landed in the water and immediately began swimming away from the dock. She saw more of them rising from the ground, but the few that took the plunge didn’t surface again. She kicked her feet, unsure if they could swim or crawl along the ocean floor, but even as she circumvented the pier, she knew it was a temporary solution. The sea was as dangerous as the monsters, and the waves were only getting choppier and bigger.

She treaded as close as she dared to the shore, until her feet barely touched the sand. The waves, impeding her progress to the island during her travels, now pushed ruthlessly at her, shoving her towards land. Towards the monsters. Kairi craned her head to the right, where she could barely make out the silhouette of the paopu tree, praying she’d see what she thought she had glimpsed when she was on the docks.

Lightning flashed, and she thought she saw someone standing there, the outline of spikey hair more familiar than the icon of the island.

It wasn’t much, but it was more than she had. Kairi turned back to the shore and let the waves propel her forward, stumbling through the sand and shallows as she raced for the land. As soon as their heads could breach the water, shadows sprung from the ground, leaping and sprinting towards her. Kairi tucked her chin, arms pumping and swatting in vain at the claws reaching for her. Each scratch was searing cold, somehow burning with frost. Bracing herself, she slammed her shoulder into the doorway of the shack, praying it would give.

It did.

The stairs hardly slowed her and the second door was gone, giving her a clear view of the round island. Her breath came in ragged gasps and her heart pounded, muting her shouts to her own ears. Sora didn’t seem to hear either, though. He stood at the center of the island, staring skyward. Kairi glanced around as she slowed to a jog, but no shadows rose from the ground. No yellow eyes stalking her from the beach. Just her, Sora, and the storm.

Kairi heard herself when she called out this time, the wind raging everywhere except where she stood. He didn’t turn, still utterly transfixed with the churning mass above them, but when Kairi reached a hand out to him, he spoke.

“The door has opened.”

Kairi stiffened at his voice, entirely not his own. Gone was the timbre of the sun’s warmth and boundless energy of the sky at midday, replaced with old wind scraping against sand and stone. Or the rustling of dead, weightless leaves as their severance from their tree drew closer. It made Kairi’s own voice sound weak to her ears when she tentatively tried, “Sora?” He started, turning towards her even as he swiveled his head this way and that, suddenly looking as disoriented as she felt. “Sora, are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Kairi, I figured it out!” He pumped one fist, gesturing up to the mass above them with the other. “The island, the storm, those creatures—they’re all connected! It’s just like that guy said.”

“Guy? What guy? Sora, where’s Ri—”

“We can go now, Kairi! We don’t need the raft; we just need _this._ ” Kairi followed his finger to the sky, then looked back at his eyes. They shone in the darkness, earnest and electric. Or was that the lightning coiling above them, trapped in his eyes from his staring? “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

“Are you crazy? Sora, look at that thing. It’s too dangerous. And those monsters can’t be hurt. I already tried.”

“I’ll handle them. I can fight those monsters and keep you safe. I won’t let the darkness get you.”

_What darkness?_ she wanted to ask him, but he added, “It’s what you wanted, right? To go see new worlds together? This might be our only chance. We can go right now, just the two of us.”

“But what about Riku?”

“What about Riku? You know him, always racing on ahead. I bet he’s on the other side right now, waiting for us.”

_He wouldn_ _’t leave us behind_ , she thought instinctively, but her flickered up to the storm. She blinked, trying to reset her gaze, as if opening and closing her eyes enough would dispel what was before her like a bad dream, though she knew beyond a doubt she was very much awake.

Something shifted in the sand. “Sora!” she shouted, pointing at his feet. Something dark and violent bloomed underneath him, black tendrils shooting up and winding around his legs before he could even glance down. With a yelp, he bent down and tugged at his leg, then tried to yank his arm away when the vines latched onto it next. Their eyes met, and Kairi saw that whatever had possessed him for the past few minutes had fled; there was no strangeness, no bravado, only a very frightened, very panicked Sora.

“Kairi!” Kairi gasped, barely registering it was her first breath since she had called his name, and rushed towards him, hand already outstretched. His knees buckled in his efforts to move his feet, to make his way towards her. Whether he was trying to stave her off so she wouldn’t get caught or reaching for her helping hand, she didn’t know. She didn’t think about the darkness crawling up her own legs, or how she suddenly couldn’t lift her feet, or anything else as she grabbed for his hand, catching only empty air.

The darkness covered her eyes, and she was blind, still grasping in the dark for him. Her call of his name echoed sounded muted, as if she were underwater, though the tears running down her face told her otherwise. She grimaced and stretched her hand out farther, hopelessly certain he was still there, when her hand closed around something hard and warm.

The warmth spread, and then lit, burning back the darkness until she saw yes, she was exactly where she thought she had been.

But Sora was not.

“Sora!” she shouted, taking a step forward. Her shin bumped into the thing she held in her hand. Her heart raced as she appraised it, not sure what it was or how or why it was here. It didn’t seem as important as why Sora wasn’t in its place instead.

Until another shadow rose from the ground, yellow eyes glued to her as it hobbled forward at its frightening speed. Kairi swung on instinct, unsure if her new prop would fare any better than her sword, but within a few hits the creature erupted into smoke and powder, dissipating in the gale. She panted, entire body trembling, and reminded herself she had to _do_ something. Sora was gone, but it was possible Riku was still on the island.

Her first hurried scan, eyes darting to find any sort of clue, missed the most obvious sign she could have asked for. She raced towards it, key slung over her shoulder, using her free hand to balance herself as she traversed the rooftop of the shack, not daring to waste any precious seconds with stairs. There was no time to wonder about the door at the entrance of their secret base, or about what may lay beyond it. Deep in her heart, she knew it kept what she needed.

* * *

After an hour and a half of staring at his ceiling, trying and failing to meditate himself back to sleep, Ienzo gave up altogether. He couldn’t help but feel betrayed by his own body and brain, which had worked in tandem to lure him to sleep the second he entered his house but now refused to still even though his clock read midnight. Insomnia was no stranger to him, but the total lack of sense or control was infuriating no matter how many nights it haunted him. So Ienzo decided long ago to simply let it run its course. If his brain and body inexplicably wanted him awake, fine. He’d do homework, or catch up on laundry, or prepare meals for the week, refusing to acknowledge his overflowing freezer of pre-made dishes.

He sat up, running his hands through his hair and leaning his weight on his elbows on his knees. A glance out his bedroom window confirmed his reasons for being awake at this hour. He was sure it was leftover adrenaline from the afternoon more than actual energy that was keeping him up. He knew he should close the blinds and push the thought of the rooftop, and his ship, from his mind so he could receive a proper amount of rest with what remains of the night he had. The stars would still be there when he woke up, and would continue to shine the following night. But looking at them now, his vehicle mere feet above his head, Ienzo felt a pull, a sort of reverse gravity in the direction of the doorway leading to the attic leading to the staircase to the roof. To the sky.

The temptation was persistent and creeping, and he was sure he’d never felt it this strong in his life. _Or what I can remember of it, anyways,_ he thought. Then he sighed and rested his head in his hands. _Don_ _’t be dense, Ienzo,_ he chided himself. _You_ _’re exhausted and not thinking clearly. An impromptu nighttime flight is beyond foolish. If something goes wrong, no one will know to help you._

He raised his gaze and stared out the window. The stars, if he were to wax poetic, stared back.

The flight was smooth earlier today. And, when he did finally, _finally_ take off for good, no one would be able to help him then, either. There’d be no radio calls, no extra sets of eyes. Just him, his ship, and space.

Ienzo pushed himself off his bed, changing and making sure to grab some snacks and a sweater before he climbed the attic ladder. If he was going to do this, he wouldn’t be _entirely_ stupid about it.

* * *

Kairi expected to have to yank at the handles of the door, but it and the weapon in her hand glowed faintly when she lay her hand on the white stone. Without any resistance, the door opened, splitting down the middle in its welcome to a space Kairi knew by heart.

The shadows kept their distance, though the wind wailed with renewed effort. It was almost deafening when she rounded the bend and the noise died away. The inside of the cavern was only slightly warmer than outside, but damper, and Kairi would have shivered if the sight she came across didn’t already make her blood run cold.

Riku was there, sagged against the far wall by the wooden door. Any relief she felt at the sight of him was drowned after one look. He trembled, pale and hunched over. One hand braced against the wall, shoulder leaning into it, supporting his weight with strength he barely had. The other hand clutched at his heart; she could hear his labored breaths resonating throughout the cavern, sluicing through the quiet the rocks and tree roots provided as shelter against the storm.

She stepped forward, shoe scraping against the stone ground. He flinched at the sound and turned to her, desperation etched onto his face. “Kairi?” he called weakly, the syllables almost too heavy for him to shape.

“Riku! What’s—”

“Don’t come any closer!” She froze as Riku staggered further against the wall. “Kairi, you’ve…you’ve gotta run. I can’t…” His forehead met the stone, eyes drifting shut since he no longer had the energy to squeeze them. “Go…” he murmured.

“Riku!” In spite of his warnings, she stepped forward, already seeing herself dragging him back to her boat, rowing him back to the main island, hiding with him in her room until the storm passed. _I can_ _’t lose you, too._

The door flew open, releasing a shrieking wind from whatever lay beyond. Without thinking, she brought her hands up to steady herself, balls of her feet digging into the ground to keep upright. Riku, with whatever strength he had left, flung himself at the door, catching the edge and leaning into it. For one single, foolish moment, Kairi thought he’d be able to close it. It slid back slightly, shuddered, and then swung outward, dislodging Riku from its frame.

She didn’t know how the wind swept him towards her while she remained steady. She didn’t know why she opened her arms as if to embrace him instead of catching him. She didn’t know why, as soon as her fingers brushed by him, he vanished, not into a pool of darkness like Sora, but as if he’d suddenly become the wind itself. She gasped, blinking away her tears, staring at her empty arms. When she looked back up, the wind from the yawning abyss beyond the doorway tinged purple, then black, and then it howled and blew Kairi away with it, slamming her back through the doorway at the entrance of the base and dumping her onto the sand.

She shook. The ground below her shook. The wind hollered around her. She buried her face into the crook of her elbow, drawing her knees up tight against her chest. Part of her screamed at herself to get up, that she had to look for Sora and Riku, that the monsters might get her. The more immediate sound she heard was her own sobs.

The ground heaved, and Kairi pushed off it, staggering to her feet. She dashed the tears away with her fists, bracing herself to take in the damage. Even after everything that had just happened, she couldn’t believe her eyes. The ocean was gone.

Parts of the island, eliminated to only the size of the beach, broke off from the edges of what she now saw was not an island amidst a sea, but a fragment of land amongst the sky. The docks, the sea shack, the paopu tree, even the secret place she had just come from had all disappeared. Kairi shuffled towards the edge, peering over it even as she yelled at herself once again for being stupid. There was nothing below her, just dark depths of blue and purple currents, darker even than the electric orb of storms and lightning and blood-red clouds above.

_It_ _’s not just us,_ she thought, staring beyond the edge of what was left of her world. _The whole world is disappearing. I_ _’m…I’m the only one left._

The hairs on the back of her neck stiffened, fear gripping at her throat like the claws of the monsters. She spun, backing away another treacherous step as she realized she was mistaken. She wasn’t alone. Another monster, alike to the others only in color and claws, rose from its knees, towering over her. She caught glimpses of yellow eyes through bundles of black hair, which clung to its face despite the wind. It stared down, unhurriedly reaching with one of its gargantuan hands towards her.

Kairi’s hands instinctively jerked to her heart, cradling each other. _This huge, black monster swallowed me up!_ Her eyes flickered between its own and its hand, this time all of her mind urging her to _move,_ though her body fell silent. _And there were all these other, smaller monsters, and—_

_He knew_ , she thought. _He tried to warn me. And now he_ _’s—_

_You had a sword?_ she heard herself ask, all mocking indignation. It had only been yesterday.

_I used it to beat up a lot of those monsters._

The rest of the conversation could blow away in the wind. Kairi clenched her teeth together and she released her hands from her chest, picturing a weapon between them instead. It came in a shimmer of light, warm against her clammy hands. _You will_ not _disappear,_ she told it, noting that the monster had paused. She got the sense it was eyeing her, considering her new weapon. When it moved again, slower this time, she waited until one finger was within range before swinging at it.

The hand withdrew, and for the first time that night, she felt a spark of hope. It didn’t last, especially when the creature began pulsing energy in its hand, dark light swirling to form an ever-growing ball in its palm, but something hotter and fiercer took its place. If her options were to fight, fade, or be devoured, then she knew exactly what she had to do.

* * *

Ienzo re-adjusted his grip on the steering prongs, though he had yet to move. The ship’s shuddering had settled into a steady but almost comforting thrumming, masking the shaking of Ienzo’s own hands. The nose pointed west, towards the sunset he’d all but memorized and past the ocean he contemplated all these years.

_I won_ _’t go far_ , he told himself. He pressed his foot on the accelerator, working up his momentum for when the ship left the roof. _Just enough to simulate flying in space. Test some of the lights._ The ship lurched slightly in anticipation, barely able to hold itself in as Ienzo reminded himself he needed to stay calm, that this take-off would be more technical than the others. _Just a quick flight._ With a measured inhale and exhale, to prove he could, Ienzo refocused his gaze out the cockpit and lifted his foot off the brakes.

* * *

The force of the punch sent shockwaves through the ground, shattering more pieces off the island. Kairi stumbled and used the weapon as a prop to remain upright, watching helplessly as a tree flew from the island, sucked up towards the sky. Grimacing back a cry, she pivoted and found herself face-to-face with the monster. Its eyes, stacked vertically as it pressed one side of its head to the ground, shone at her. Kairi stared back, searching them and feeling everything from the past hour bubble and well inside of her. The wind whipped her hair across her face. The creature didn’t blink. Another tree broke away from the island.

“Give it back!” Kairi screamed at the monster, dragging the point of the weapon up from the ground. The wind screamed back. “My home, my island, Sora, Riku. Give them back!” She stepped towards it, arms raising overhead and swinging down with all her might. “Give! Them! Back!”

* * *

The stars reflected brightly off the sea, outshining the already scant lights of Twilight Town at night. Ienzo sent a quick thank-you to his past self for his trial in flying upside-down; without gravity telling him which way was up, he was doubtful he’d have been able to tell the difference. He hadn’t even left the atmosphere yet, and already he was lost in endless space of darkness and stars.

He should go back. The lights were tested and satisfactory, and now that he didn’t have to worry about waking up the entire town with space-worthy high beams, there was no reason to linger. If he had to make an emergency landing, he was a long swim from shore.

Ienzo glanced up. He didn’t want to linger, over the sea or on land. He wanted movement. He wanted the beyond.

The nose of the ship didn’t turn towards town. It pointed up, and up, and up, until Ienzo was forced to lessen the angle lest he guide himself into a backwards loop. And while it’d be something to torment Hayner about later, Ienzo wasn’t thinking of later’s. The Star Shard pressed against his thigh from inside his pocket. His eyes remained glued to the stars twinkling patiently before him, mysteries waiting to be explored and perhaps even solved. How could he have ever thought of closing his bedroom blinds?

The glowing and quietly buzzing streetlamps of Twilight Town paid no mind to the sudden flare of engines, brief twin lights joining the stars in the sky until they were swallowed by the unknown.

* * *

Kairi collapsed, glaring up at the monster as it stumbled back, one hand rising to cradle its face. Halfway through the motion, it ceased and looked up. The island was rising on whatever tide bore it, bringing it, the monster, and Kairi closer to whatever calamity was haunting her sky.

“No…” The weapon vanished, but the monster didn’t look at Kairi again. Its feet lifted off the sand, peeling away slowly until it separated completely, and its head breached the sphere.

“No!” Kairi grabbed the last remaining tree just as the wind billowed upward, propelling the island higher and taking her with it, until her hands grabbed the highest branch and she found her upside-down, gripping her lifeline while her feet kicked at the darkness. For a few, brief seconds, Kairi clung not only to the tree, but to the belief that somehow, if she stayed with the island, it would turn out okay. Then her fingers, sore and blistered and raw from pulling together the raft and the thalassa charm, from wielding her weapon and the oars of her boat, peeled away just like the feet of the monster, and Kairi could actually see each one slip off the bark before her eyes.

She only had a moment to realize she was falling into the sky before darkness swallowed her and everything went black. This time, no light or weapon appeared to save her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's been reading, commenting, bookmarking, and kudo-ing (it's a word now). You all really helped kick my motivation up a few gears (along with playing Destiny's Force on an endless loop).


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